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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368098">Coal (30 Days of Prompts)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming'>JoifulDreaming</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drinking, First Kiss, Getting Together, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, POV Third Person</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 16:55:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27368098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoifulDreaming/pseuds/JoifulDreaming</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which they're both denser than lead, but it ends happy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>45</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Coal (30 Days of Prompts)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For my NaNoWrimo project: 30 days of short story prompts.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The customer had sauntered into her bar around 8pm, dressed from head to toe in the tightest black outfit Carline had ever seen.  It was an arresting sight, even if she wasn't overly interested in anyone's appearance.  She served the drinks and she mopped the bar and, sometimes, she listened when people needed it.  And then she went home to her cat and her family of succulents.  It was a simple life, but it suited her just fine.  Despite decades of listening to the romantic and sexual woes of her customers, friends, and family members, none of it had ever really interested her personally.  Still, there was some intrigue to be found in the drama of it all... for other people, if not for herself.</p>
<p>They slapped a credit card down on the counter- although where they had been keeping it was a mystery as surely the whole outfit was too tight for the pockets to contain anything, even lint- and ordered a round for the house.</p>
<p>“And for you, dark stranger?” Carline teased as she rang up the order and started pulling the drinks.</p>
<p>“Don't care.  Something strong enough to knock me on my ass.” The dark stranger took up residence on a stool directly in the middle of the length of the bar.  In her experience, this meant the person was either here to spill their woes or to pull someone for the night.  She wondered which it was.  It could be both.</p>
<p>“Gonna be a short night with us?”  She passed drinks down the bar to the various patrons gathered there.  Mostly they were the regulars.  They didn't need to ask for what they wanted anymore, she knew.  That's why they kept coming back here.  She was something comforting and familiar in a world that made less and less sense.</p>
<p>“You'd be surprised,” they grunted back, accepting the amber liquid she placed on the bar for them, “how much I can take.”  But, they didn't knock back the drink as she expected.  Nor did they say much more to her as they sipped it sparingly.  </p>
<p>People eventually came and sat next to them, various sorts.  But none of them seemed to draw their attention.  They got their fair share of once-overs and longing looks.  Even a few predatory stares, although she gave them harsh warning glances and they left before they caused real trouble.  She wouldn't stand for that kind of thing in her establishment.  She tried, when she could, to look out for her customers, even when those very same customers made the job difficult.  Someone had to look out for wayward souls, perhaps it was part of her calling in life.</p>
<p>The dark stranger only had eyes for the bottom of the glass.  She wasn't sure what they saw, but she spent the next couple of hours glancing at the shock of red hair rather than the black shades they wore, their gaze lost in thought down in the emptying glass.</p>
<p>They didn't look up even as they tapped the bar for another.  And another.  And another.  They were more than halfway through her bottle of top shelf whiskey and she knew she should cut them off, but they didn't seem nearly as intoxicated as they should be.  She sat another glass in front of them and crossed her arms on the bar, resting her chin on them and peering at them.</p>
<p>“Can feel you staring at me,” they mumbled, glancing at her briefly before taking the new glass and peering down into it, “bit unnerving.”</p>
<p>“Says the one wearing sunglasses inside so no one can tell where they're really looking,” she watched as the dark stranger looked up, grinned, and sprawled a bit more over the counter, “I'm tryin' to figure out how drunk you are and if I need to cut you off.”</p>
<p>“m'not drunk, really, at all.”</p>
<p>“Well, you certainly don't sound like it.  But, you really outta be by now.”</p>
<p>“Told you, it takes more to drag me down,” their grin slipped at one edge and a crease formed on their brow.  They looked back down at their glass, swirling it between long fingers tipped in deep red varnish.</p>
<p>“That could be true.  Supernatural drinker, I get it.”  She tilted her head, trying to meet their eyes again, “Do you want to talk, then?”</p>
<p>“Is that what humans do when they come here?”  They said it like they, themself, weren't human.  Weird, but not the weirdest thing she'd ever heard.</p>
<p>“Some do,” she nodded, glancing up and down the bar to make sure no one else needed tending to, “when they need someone to listen.”</p>
<p>“Not sure you can help with this one,” they downed the last of the glass, faster this time than the previous, and handed it to her hopefully, “this tale is as old as time.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, old as time?  That's heartbreak, mate,” she filled the glass and scooted it to them, “if I ever heard it.  Only love can make a hurt go on that long.  Well, the way I hear it, anyway.”</p>
<p>At first they talked in drips and drabs, punctuated by her needing to fill another customer's glass or call a cab for someone.  But, as she moved from one bottle of whiskey to the next they started to spin outrageous tales of angels and demons, heaven and hell, and an armageddon that had already happened.  Or, not happened.  All of that was just backstory, though, to the one they told her about their best and only friend through it all.  She might have chalked up the fantasy talk to the massive amount of alcohol in their system, but despite all that she had served, they were only barely slurring.</p>
<p>Some people, she had learned, needed to couch their stories in fiction to tell them.  Telling them outright was too painful and left them feeling too vulnerable, especially to strangers.  That they were getting it out at all was probably good even if she didn't understand what most of the metaphor meant.</p>
<p>They never mentioned an actual name in the whole story, only referred to their love as “Angel.”  And, even though parts of the story clearly stung them, making them pause and swallow or look away for periods of time, there was a softness to their voice that spoke of an enduring love that continued despite the pain.  The warmth in their tone when saying the nickname pricked her own heart.  There were people she loved in life with her whole heart, even if it wasn't romance like the stranger experienced, and she could relate to it: friendships broke as unevenly and sharp as any relationship could.</p>
<p>“You've made it through so much, though,” she patted the dark stranger's arm, “maybe you should outright tell him how you feel.”</p>
<p>“He knows,” the stranger was leaning to one side now, the alcohol having clearly caught up with him at last, “s'no way he doesn't know by now. S'just not interested in those sorts of things.”</p>
<p>“I mean, that's possible.  There are people that aren't,” Carline stopped short of telling her own stories in that regard, “or maybe he's just really, really dense.”</p>
<p>The stranger snorted.</p>
<p>“Or very afraid that maybe you don't want the same thing anymore.  You know, now that the danger's past and there's been so much history.” All the metaphors, she could work with them.  They had to stand for something, even if she couldn't decode them.</p>
<p>“Maybe so, hard to tell.  After six thousand odd years, I can't afford to screw this up, y'know?  I can't- I won't- I-” the stranger wheezed, whipping off their glasses and swiping at their eyes- eyes rimmed in kohl darker than coal itself (that, perhaps had her believing in miracles since it did not smudge no matter how much they rubbed at it), “I can't lose him now, he's all I have.  He's all I've ever had.”</p>
<p>The stranger had some of the longest eyelashes she'd ever seen, which was all she could make out of their eyes since they were once again staring down at their drink.</p>
<p>“We're the only ones on our side.  I don't want... I don't want to be alone on my side,” they shuddered deeply, shoulders hunching inwards as they swayed unsteadily on the stool.  She wondered if she was going to have to pick them off the floor.</p>
<p>“I think it might be worth the risk, but I'm only human.”</p>
<p>“Hmm, true,” they looked up at her at last and it took everything to hold back the gasp that climbed up her throat.  Their eyes were a startling shade of gold that seemed to be lit by firelight from the inside.  She had never seen anything like them and all the tales of drowning in someone's gaze came back to her at once.  She wondered if this was what they meant.  It was bewitching.  And, the deep black surrounding them only made them stand out more, to sparkle in the darkness.</p>
<p>Of course, it was at precisely at that moment that they slipped out of the chair and fell on their ass on the floor.  Carline sighed, putting up what was left of the second bottle of whiskey.  She waited to see if they'd manage to get themself off the floor.  Not seeing the top of their red head peek over the bar after a couple seconds, she went to the end, lifted the bar and went around.  They were still conscious, thankfully, but sprawled across the floor and leaning against the stool.</p>
<p>“I go too fast for him, you see?  Everything I do is too fast for him... I have to stay slow and steady.  Always slow and steady.  Maybe in another 6,000 years.  We've got all the time in the world, I can wait.”  They seemed to only then realize they were no longer on the stool, blinking around in confusion.</p>
<p>“Do you want me to call you a cab?” Carline squatted down in front of them, hands on her knees, “I have numbers I can call.”</p>
<p>“Ngk, I don't like human drivers.”</p>
<p>“Well,” she pursed her lips and sighed, “you can't stay on my floor all night.  It's gone midnight and I need to close.”</p>
<p>“I can pay my tab,” they grumbled, producing a wallet from their back pocket that clearly could not have held the wallet, “and then I'll make my own way home.”  They opened the wallet, looked inside with a puzzled expression then shrugged and handed the entire thing to her.</p>
<p>She sighed and took it, going back around the bar to ring them out with the same credit card as before.  But, when she pulled the card out and slip of paper came out with it.  The paper was yellowed and creased with age.  All it contained in impossibly loopy penmanship was a phone number.  She stood staring at the number for a while, contemplating her options.  She could call the stranger a cab and insist that they use it.  She could guide them outside and leave them there- though she knew she wouldn't do that.  She wouldn't sleep well knowing they were on their own, drunk on the street.</p>
<p>She peered over the bar, spotting the gravity-defying red hair in the same place that she'd left it.  They clearly weren't going anywhere.  She dialed the number on her mobile.  At worst, the person on the other end wouldn't even know who she was talking about.  At best, it was a friend who could come pick up the dark stranger and make sure they got home safely.  Wayward souls, she was a sucker for a lost cause.</p>
<p>The line rang.  And rang.  And rang.  Just as she feared no one would pick up, there was a click and then-</p>
<p>“Crowley?  Crowley is that you?”</p>
<p>“I'm afraid not, sorry.”</p>
<p>“Oh.”  The disappointment was so palpable through the one word that she was almost personally insulted, “well, the shop isn't open at this hour.  Please call back during-”</p>
<p>“I'm sorry to call so late, sir, but there's someone here who needs a ride.  They aren't in a fit state to drive themself anywhere.”</p>
<p>“I suggest you call them a cab, young lady.  I have no idea where you got this number, but-”  She cut him off before he could really start blustering and it sounded like he'd be able to really get going if she let him.  It was too late, or rather too early, for that kind of thing.</p>
<p>“I got it from the person's wallet.  Yours is the only number in here...”</p>
<p>“Wait, who's wallet?”</p>
<p>“I didn't get their name,” Carline sighed, “Look, I just want to make sure they get home safe, okay?  They've been in here drinking away heartbreak all night.  I won't sleep until I know they're safe.”</p>
<p>“What's the name on the cards in the wallet?”  The person on the other end of the phone no longer sounded annoyed.  He sounded hopeful.</p>
<p>“Hang on,” she picked up the wallet again- the credit card, why hadn't she looked at the name on the card? Maybe she needed a vacation, “Anthony, Anthony J. Crowley.  Oh, I guess it is who you're expecting.  Well, roundabout.”</p>
<p>“Oh, thank you, my dear.  Yes.  I haven't heard from him in days.  Wait, heartbreak?”  his voice suddenly had an edge to it that wasn't there even in his annoyance, “who hurt him?”  She was suddenly glad she could say it wasn't her.  That edge sounded sharp and protective.</p>
<p>“No name given there, either, only called him 'angel.'”</p>
<p>The phone went silent.  She let it stretch on a bit, but her bed was calling her and she still needed to mop up and count the till.</p>
<p>“You still there?”</p>
<p>“Yes, er, yes.  I'm terribly sorry,” now he sounded strained, almost like he was holding back tears, “Very sorry, dear, if you'll just give me the address I'll be by to pick him up as quickly as I can.”  She thought she heard him murmur, distantly, “if he'll even want to see me” but it was hard to tell what people muttered over mobile phones.</p>
<p>She gave him the address and then they rung off.  She went back around the bar, finding Anthony where she'd left him, gangly limbs sprawled in all directions.  She expected him to be passed out, but he was still staring resolutely into the distance.</p>
<p>“Someone's coming for you, how about we get you somewhere more comfortable?”  She squatted down and helped him up, guiding him to a booth in the back corner.  Every one else had left at a decent hour.  She could clean around him.  Hopefully his friend wouldn't be long.</p>
<p>“Who's coming for me?  I told you, I don't like riding with humans.”  His eyes were drooping even as he spoke.</p>
<p>“I didn't get his name, but he clearly seems to know you.  Was expecting you to call, even.”</p>
<p>“Can't imagine who that'd be...”  She would've responded, but his heavy eyes had closed now and his face, creased since earlier in the evening, relaxed.  He was kind of pretty, she had to admit.  She wondered who it was his heart so desperately longed for- who was his angel.</p>
<p>As it turned out, her wait wasn't long at all.  Some fifteen minutes later, a white-haired man stepped into her bar and looked around.  He spotted Anthony in the corner and went to him immediately, worry etched in deep lines all across his face.  He shook Anthony's shoulder softly and then harder.  When that didn't work, he pinched the dark man's arm.</p>
<p>“Ow, hey!”  Anthony batted his hand away and grumbled, sitting up somewhat straight.  Carline wondered if the man could sit properly at all, even sober.  He seemed to have bones made of rubber.</p>
<p>“Crowley, where have you been?”  The white-haired man put his hands on his hips and stared Crowley down.</p>
<p>“Angel!”</p>
<p>Carline gasped and put her hand over her mouth, wondering suddenly if she had done just the wrong thing.  Both men turned to stare at her and she made quick work of making like she was cleaning the bar instead of watching them.  Too late, of course, but she didn't want to be that rude.  Crowley, in spite of all he had told her this evening, sounded delighted to see this angel in front of him.</p>
<p>“Days, Crowley.  Days.  You were coming by every day like clockwork and then you just- just disappeared!  I've been worried sick.  I thought- I thought maybe they had come back for you.”  The white-haired man's argument had started out strong, but by the last few words his voice sounded as it had on the phone: like he might give way to tears.</p>
<p>“Nuh, er, hurgh!” Crowley struggled for words, “I'm sorry, Angel... I didn't think you'd notice.  Didn't think you'd think that.”  He seemed to puzzle over his own words, but the ones he managed came out sounding genuine.</p>
<p>“Didn't think I'd notice!  My dear boy, how much have you had?” white-hair wrung his hands, “you know what, it doesn't matter.  I missed you and I'm glad you're okay and we need to get you home.”</p>
<p>“You don't...” Crowley stared at him in extreme concentration, “you don't drive.”</p>
<p>“Let's just get you outside and sober you up, okay darling?”</p>
<p>Carline thought it would take a whole lot more than fresh air to sober him up after two bottles of whiskey, but once he was out the door he was this other man's problem not hers.  She polished glasses to continue looking busy.</p>
<p>“I don't want to.”</p>
<p>“Don't want to, what?”</p>
<p>“Sober up.”</p>
<p>“Why, in heav-er, why on Earth not?”</p>
<p>“Doesn't hurt right now.”</p>
<p>“What doesn't hurt?”  but Carline had a feeling this Angel knew exactly what Crowley was talking about.</p>
<p>“Being with you.”  Crowley looked away after the confession, poking at a tear in the booth beside him.</p>
<p>“Being with me hurts you?” the Angel's voice wobbled, going soft and revealing painful feelings of his own.</p>
<p>“Yeah... because I like it.”</p>
<p>“I don't understand that, Crowley.”</p>
<p>“I like being with you.”</p>
<p>“But it hurts you?”</p>
<p>“s'what I said.”</p>
<p>“But why?”<br/>
“You know.”</p>
<p>“I'm afraid I don't.”  And she believed him, the poor thing sounded utterly lost and confused.  She half expected him to stamp a foot in frustration, but he just went on wringing his hands.</p>
<p>Dense, that's what she had said to Crowley earlier in the evening.  Maybe his angel was dense.  She was sure, now, that she had been right.  This conversation was distressing to watch, let alone live in.  No wonder Crowley had drunk himself silly.</p>
<p>“You don't feel for me the way I feel for you,” Crowley finally said in a burst, almost too fast to be individual words, “and-and that's fine, you know?  It's okay, really.  S'just that I love you all the same even if you don't feel that way about me.  And, I- I'm not saying I was gonna be away forever, but I wanted a break.”</p>
<p>Carline lived in the moment of silence with Crowley, hardly believing that this was all taking place right in front of her.  Really, she should have left them alone some time ago.  This was none of her business.  She'd heard and seen enough to know that Crowley and his Angel weren't going to physically harm one another.  They had made no move to disturb her bar.  She should give them privacy.  But, she couldn't seem to make herself move.  She had to know how this turned out.  In disbelief, she realized she was rooting for them, whatever strange metaphor they were living.</p>
<p>“Budge up.” The angel swatted at Crowley's knee until he turned in the booth such that the white-haired man could sit beside him.  Side-by-side they sat, both staring at the fake woodgrain of the table in front of them.  Crowley was curled in on himself and the angel had left a bit of space between them.</p>
<p>“I think I've given you the wrong impression, my dear, all this time.”</p>
<p>Crowley said nothing, only picked at the at the edge of the table now.</p>
<p>“Because if you think I don't love you, the options are that you're blind or it's my fault.  And, I know you aren't blind.”  No, thought Carline, but it was entirely possible that they were both denser than lead.</p>
<p>Carline watched the words hit Crowley.  Watched no reaction bleed into drunken wheels turning turn into confusion and then-</p>
<p>“Yeah, but you're an angel.  You're meant to love everything.”</p>
<p>“Now, of all people on Earth and Heaven and Hell, I think you know the inaccuracy of that statement.  Angels are meant to love, sure, but by experience we both know they're picky.”</p>
<p>“You love me, specifically?” Crowley was trying to glace at the man without actually looking at him and it made Carline's eyes hurt just watching.</p>
<p>“I love you, specifically.  Not agape, not just philia.  Pragma, ludus... Eros.”</p>
<p>“Eros.”</p>
<p>“Mmhmm.”</p>
<p>Crowley sat with this simple declaration for a time and Carline couldn't tell if he was going to smile or cry, lines etching deeper and deeper in his face as he turned it over in his head.  The angel gave him the time.</p>
<p>“I'll be right back, my love, you stay here,” the angel patted his hand and got up, crossing the room to stand on the other side of the bar.</p>
<p>“Er, I'm sorry to keep eavesdroppin'.”</p>
<p>“It's quite alright.  You want to make sure he's okay.  That's a sentiment we share.  I think he might come with me now, though, so I'll collect his things.”</p>
<p>“Oh! Right,” Carline reached under the counter and retrieved Crowley's wallet and sunglasses, handing them to the man.</p>
<p>“I'm very glad that he found you tonight, dear,” the angel smiled so warmly at her that it felt like a physical hug, “thank you for taking care of him for me.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” somehow she felt less tired than before, less stressed about everything- it was strange-, “Thank you for coming to get him.”</p>
<p>The angel's smile tipped into a rueful smirk, “I'll always come for him.  And, he knows that even if he stubbornly wants to pretend he doesn't.”  She wasn't sure what to make of that twisty statement but she nodded anyway.</p>
<p>The angel crossed the room back to Crowley, who somehow was sitting up straighter and looking far less intoxicated than he had a moment before.</p>
<p>“Ready to come home with me?”  The angel offered his hand and Crowley took it, sliding out of the booth and standing before him.</p>
<p>“Eros?”</p>
<p>“Yes, dear, that's what I said.”</p>
<p>Crowley stepped closer, into the angel's space and reached up, touching his cheek.</p>
<p>“I've been an idiot.”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”  The angel didn't agree, but he didn't disagree, either.</p>
<p>Crowley stepped closer yet, close enough that there was no longer space between them.  He tilted his head and pulled the angel's face close to his and kissed him sweetly and gently before pulling back. The angel looked dazedly between Crowley's eyes and lips, biting his own.</p>
<p>“Yeah, let's go home so I can make it up to you.”  Crowley took his hand and led him to the door.  The angel followed, casting one last glace over at Carline and mouthing another 'thank you' just as he was pulled out the door.</p>
<p>She stood and watched the door for a bit, making sure they weren't coming back.  Then she crossed the room, flicked off the light, and went upstairs to her flat.</p>
<p>No, she wasn't interested in a love like that.  Eros didn't appeal to her.  But, that didn't mean that she wasn't thankful that there were people in the world for those that it did.  And that, sometimes, they got their perfect happy endings.</p>
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